Preech but no Practice

Below is the poem entitled Preech but no Practice which was written by poet
Frank
Guglietta. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

Preech but no Practice

Stained glass pours
light throughout.
There he stands innocent
wearing white
Sunday is a time of
rejoice, forgiveness, and worship.
All of your sins and unjust
will be cured.
You must stand and sing
to be heard.
As a salesman bargains
for your pockets.
Elderly folk align
wearing finest
sunday clothing.
The lord might judge like the neighbor
who sits two rows infront.
Equalness is drilled.
the wood always takes
untill exiting the sunday cult.
If a black
holding an afro
and tattoo's
cuts you off
or didnt say your welcome
or makes you pay more taxes
or is unjust to your demands
he would be a nigger.
Sunday afternoon is present
and you've done your deed to
your savior.
Turning away from the poor,
while throwing a 10 for the car cleaning
you sang your songs
that is enough.
But the old who die
and the young who survive
will be saved by
not christ, not a father
not a sign
but themselves.